


You are a Moron, Steve Rogers

by youngandbitchy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Cussing, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Friendship/Love, Hurt Steve Rogers, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Insert, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tumblr: young-and-bitchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 17:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16937688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngandbitchy/pseuds/youngandbitchy
Summary: Where your first date with Steve ends up with a rush to the hospital.





	You are a Moron, Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> Biscochito217 on Tumblr requested: Okay Okay Okay i know you might besick of all my requests but I can’t help it,can I request a Steve Rogers x Reader with 36: “ I’m so in love with you. ”15: “ Don’t die on me– Please. ”46: “ Can I kiss you right now? ”

  
The holidays were extra special when you were an Avenger, because you knew that at any moment you'd have to go on a mission and couldn't refuse. So, that free evening, Steve was living up to a promise before any mission had the chance to come up.

He stood in front of the mirror of his bedroom, looking at the purple spot that went from his left ribs and spread across his hips. He winced by looking at it.   
Steve told himself he'd go to a doctor tomorrow.

He put on a t-shirt, wincing and complaining all the way through. He had a lump in his throat: he'd finally asked you out, and he was so nervous his hands shook while putting on his coat.  
  
He ran into you in the hallway and he bit his inner lip to repress a wince when your bodies collided. You touched his arms to stabilize yourself and make sure he was okay.   
  
“You good?” You asked him.   
  
Steve eyed you up and down. You were using combat boots, jeans and a sweater with a coat, covering your ears with a headband.   
  
He smiled at you. “I'm better now.”   
  
You smiled, blushing. “Well, you're not so bad yourself, Captain,” you complimented him. “Where are you taking me?”   
  
Steve smiled mischievously. “I think you'll like it.”   
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” he nodded.   
  
“Then let's go.”   
  
You took his hand and he grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

* * *

 

The car drive to Central Park was nothing short of fun. The lights illuminated the inside of the car, and as Steve drove, you two sang along to songs you both knew while you taught him some new ones.   
  
When you two arrived, Steve covered your eyes with his hands. You had your arms stretched out, attempting to touch something. He couldn't stop laughing to how ridiculous you looked.   
  
“Okay, okay, we're here!” Steve stopped walking and so did you.   
  
He uncovered your eyes. You were in front of the ice skating rink. Soft music played in the background, and people flooded the place.  
  
You turned to face him, your eyes glowing with happiness. “ **Can I kiss you right now?** ” You requested, a wide smile on your face.   
  
“Hm...” Steve mumbled, shifting on his feet with an innocent smile. “I'd say we wait for the end of the date, but...” He looked at you, your eyes tempting him and your slyness making his head spin. “I can't resist you,” he admitted.   
  
You got on the tips of your toes and closed your eyes to kiss him. Your lips enfolded his with passion and lust, one of your hands running through his hair and another one on his back.   
  
Your lips lingered on his a second after the kiss ended. “Maybe I'll use that to my advantage.”   
  
“I hope so,” he answered.   
  
You shook your head, supressing a smile. “Let's go get our shoes.”

* * *

 

When they allowed you to go on the rink, you tried to guide each other... and failed miserably. You were somewhat good at maintaining balance outside of the margins, but Steve, the two times Steve attempted to do the same, he'd fall on his ass.

“Okay, I know.” You stretched your hands at him. “I'll keep you on your feet.” Steve squinted. “I promise! C'mon, take my hands.”   
  
Steve sighed. He grabbed one hand first and then the other one. While tourists and new yorkers enjoyed the sight of Captain America struggling to ice skate, you two laughed at each other's expressions.   
  
“Can I get those—?” Mid-sentence talking to the spectators, you fell on the ice again, hitting your butt. “Shut!” You exclaimed, your hand going to your butt to rub it.   
  
“Here, let me...”   
  
Steve extended his hands, but gravity deceived him. He fell on his chest, and you would've laughed... if he hadn't let out a dry cough, staining the ice with blood. 

“Steve?” You called, your voice tainted with preocupation, touching his arm.   
  
But he kept coughing.   
  
“Shit!” You exclaimed, crawling towards him as fast as you could through the ice. With the help of two other people, you put him on his side. “Somebody call 911!” You screamed. “Steve?” You said, touching his face.   
  
Coagulated blood spilled all over the ice with each cough, drops falling on your jeans and your arms.   
  
“The...” He tried to speak, but coughed up blood, the blood running through your arm this time. “Bruise...”   
  
He placed his left arm on his abdomen. “Could you hold him still?” You requested to the men helping you. You lifted his shirt up a bit, noticing a large bruise spread across his abdomen, ribs and hips. “Fuck, Steve!” You cursed.   
  
“He's losing consciousness!” Someone announced.   
  
Steve was closing his eyes. “No! No!” You shouted. “Captain, c'mon.” Tears brimmed from your eyes, your hands going to his cheeks. “Steve?” You murmured. “ **Don't die on me— Please,** ” you begged.   
  
Sirens got louder by the second, and a minute later paramedics were putting Captain America in a stretch.   
  
You struggled to take off the skating shoes. “Are you coming with us, miss?”   
  
“You take him. I'll be right there.”   
  
You grabbed your phone from the pocket of your jacket as you walked to the booth. You pressed on Tony's contact number. “Number six and seven,” you told the girl.   
  
A second later, Tony answered. “Why are you calling me when you're on a date?” It's the first thing he said.   
  
“Because my date turned into a bloodbath!” You screamed, putting on your combat boots as fast as you could.   
  
“What are you talking about?”   
  
“Did you know Steve was injured? He fell and started coughing blood on the ice rink!”  
  
“What?! Is he okay?!”   
  
“He's on his way to the hospital.” Your shoes were on and you sighed. “And I am now. I'll call you in five.”   
  
You hang up. You crouched to take impulse, and jumped into the starry night, the cold breeze running through your hair and lacing your face.

* * *

 

Back at the ambulance, Steve could hear the sirens through his semi-consciousness, close to annoying him into a heart attack. He was breathing through an oxygen mask, his feet free from the ice skating shoes. 

He took a peek at his blood-stained hands and clothing and thought to himself: I am a moron.   
  
None of the Avengers would live this down, especially you. The date he had planned didn't end up with him going to the hospital in an ambulance. Perhaps an ice cream? Or a burrito?   
  
Definitely not this.   
  
And as Steve cursed himself over and over for being a proud idiot, he heard a dry thud in the ceiling of the ambulance. Immediately knowing it was you, he smiled to himself, forgetting about the loud sirens. 

* * *

 

You were pacing back and forth in Steve's hospital bedroom when he woke up. He'd been in surgery for almost three hours, and now had a massive scar on his chest... that if, you were honest, were digging. 

You stood with your arms crossed over your chest.   
  
Steve's face lit up when he saw you, but when he noticed the fake smile on your face, he groaned.   
  
“What was it?”   
  
“Your broken ribs caused an embolism.”  
  
Steve chuckled. “Well, I do feel lighter.” Steve noticed your clenched jaw and how you formed fists. “Have I told you how pretty you are when you're mad?”   
  
“Well I'm about to be beautiful,” you replied. You took a deep breath, and shouted, “What the fuck were you thinking?! You've had that for weeks, Steven, weeks! And you didn't think of doing anything?! What the fuck?! Do you realise you're a fucking moron, huh?! Because you are! You are a MORON!”   
  
You put your hand near your face, and Steve thought you were doing it to calm down... but in reality, you were doing it to hold back tears.   
  
“Hey, hey...” Steve tried to sit straight, but the stitches of his new scar and the gigantic purple spot didn't let him.   
  
You approached him. “Stay put,” you demanded him. You looked at him, and his eyes had a softness to them, screaming an apology. You sighed and sat on the chair next to him, your hands going to one of his. “I was so scared, I...”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“No, you don't,” you muttered. “I thought that was it. I thought that the next time I'd be seeing you would be in a coffin.” You kept the tears from streaming down your cheeks with each breath you took.   
  
“You think I can die that easily?” You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Hey,” he called. You looked at him, your eyes watered. “I'm not going anywhere. Especially not until I say this: (Y/N),” he made a pause to breathe and said, “ **I am so in love with you.** ”

The tears you were holding fell from your eyes. You nodded several times. “Me too,” you admitted.   
  
“Yeah?” Steve asked, smiling.   
  
You nodded again and got up to kiss him, cupping his cheeks in the process. He tasted the salt in your tears and the strawberry Jell-O in your mouth.   
When he looked up at you after the kiss, he was sure he was seeing an angel.   
  
“Heeeeeey,” Sam's voice interrupted the moment. “We interrupting anything?”   
  
You rolled your eyes and faced him and Bucky, standing by the door. “Of course you are,” you sassed. “But it's fine. This guy isn't going on any missions till March, so we're gonna have plenty of alone time.”   
  
Steve did a thumbs up behind you. “That's not fair,” Bucky complained.   
  
You shrugged. “Get a wound and don't get it checked for two weeks, see if it does the job.”   
  
“Moron,” Bucky stated.   
  
“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, indignated.   
  
You laughed. “Anyway, I'm gonna go get coffee. You guys can tell him how dumb he is while I'm gone.”   
  
You blew him a kiss. Sam and Bucky watched you leave the room, and when your presence didn't linger in it, the first thing Steve Rogers said was:   
  
“I am so lucky.”


End file.
